Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Lesotho and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Happenings to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Simply Red tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sunsets and Hearts record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stiv Bators,
Sixth Finger,
The Martian,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Move,
Letta Mbulu,
Barbara Tucker,
The Misunderstood,
Liliput,
Inner City,
Blossom Toes,
Pole,
The Mummies,
David Bowie,
Bad Manners,
Roger Hodgson,
Skarface,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Infiniti,
The Modern Lovers,
Jawbox,
Grandmaster Flash,
cv313,
Lakeside,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Smoke,
Goldenarms,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Hashim,
Grey Daturas,
Neu!,
Shuggie Otis,
Minnie Riperton,
Ludus,
Jeff Mills,
Television Personalities,
Faraquet,
a-ha,
Guru Guru,
Radio Birdman,
Ken Boothe,
Skriet,
The Golliwogs,
The Dead C,
Robert Wyatt,
Interpol,
Grauzone,
Anakelly,
Tears for Fears,
Mars,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Subhumans,
Archie Shepp,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pierre Henry,
Bobby Sherman,
F. McDonald,
Avey Tare,
Stockholm Monsters,
Yazoo,
Gong,
Warsaw,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.